The Marchers
by RainbowsNSmiles5
Summary: Drabbles about a high school marching band and its members. What have these band geeks gotten themselves into?
1. Attention

~ Attention ~

Attention.

No moving, no talking, and you better think twice before looking anywhere but forward, unless you enjoy doing push-ups. It is the first thing you learn in band camp – to stand as still and quiet as the Royal British Guards.

Are your hands sweaty? Do you need to wipe them off on your shirt? Well, that's too bad. Did a bug land on your arm? Is it tickling your skin? Get over it.

You are not to break attention for _anything_.

On the fourth day of "fish camp", the newly recruited freshmen were gathered into a four-step block by Bolley High's drum major while the band director stood in front of the block, arms crossed across his chest expectantly as he observed their progress.

"Band, ten-hut!" the drum major roared.

"One!" the band cried back in response.

The block stood still and serious as the director walked through the block, examining the band members with a critical eye. He slowly turned the corner and made his way to a boy named Will, who tried to restrain himself from moving his blue eyes to glance at his teacher, but failed.

The director caught Will's eyes lurking onto him. "Don't look at me!" he scolded.

Will's face vaguely tightened in response and his eyes faced forward where they belonged. He felt lucky that he wasn't given push-ups to do on the hot, baking parking lot they used as a field.

The director then saw two fidgeting discreetly, hoping to get away with a scratch to their face, or quickly push their hair away from their face. He pointed them out immediately and chided to enforce discipline. "Quit fidgeting! You're at attention!"

You are to never move at attention.

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><p><strong>** Thank you for deciding to read this! I'm not sure how many of these I'll do, but the more encouragement I get, the more I'm willing to do since I see this story as something fun to write while I'm not working on my other stories because of writer's block or lack of inspiration, etc. (If you're into <span>Harvest Moon<span> or Ouran High School Host Club, then I hope you like them!)  
><strong>

** I want these to relate to your own experiences in band, but I know they won't be exact since every band is different in their own way. Most of what I will write is based on the band I'm in or the ones I have been in. These drabbles will have reoccurring characters, like Will, but I don't plan on making a MAIN character for this story.**

**Sorry for the long A/N on a drabble! I just needed to introduce and explain a few things. I hope you will enjoy this! :) ****


	2. Uniform

~ Uniform ~

The bus screeched to a halt in the football stadium's parking lot. This was everyone's cue to unzip their black uniform bags and begin putting on their attire.

Roxie, a clarinet player with hair that was dyed a different color every few weeks, slipped on her black pants and red jacket in the bus' aisle while noting grimly to herself how cramped and hot it was when forty other people moved around to get dressed.

She looked down at how effective the uniform was at hiding all of her feminine curves. She saw no sign of her hips nor breasts and began pressing her hands on her chest to make sure they didn't just disappear completely.

"Damn," she said with a chuckle under her breath. "You've just gotta love these sexy suits!"


	3. Looker

~ Looker ~

There was a new girl that moved into Bolley in the middle of the season. She wasn't much of a talker, but the majority of males in the band would agree that she was a looker.

She had blond hair that curled delicately just below her shoulders, thin lips that didn't need the help of lipstick or gloss to make them rosy red, and large, blue hazel eyes that the boys' eyes were glued to from the very first day she arrived.

Cody, who only noticed her presence after her third day of school, saw that she didn't talk much. She didn't even speak with the other members of the flute section unless it was necessary. So, he decided to attempt talk to her after an inside rehearsal.

She was kneeling down on the ground, taking apart the three pieces of her flute and carefully placing them back in their case when Cody approached her with a goofy grin he often wore on his lips.

"Hey, my name's Cody!" he boldly introduced, offering his hand to help her off the ground. She blinked her eyes up at him and took the hand. "What's your name?" he asked, running a hand through his short brown hair.

Her lips curved upwards slightly, and she tucked a piece of hair behind her ear sheepishly. "Lily," she answered.


	4. Cadence

~ Cadence ~

Cadences.

They had this exciting, underlying message in its rhythm that urged the rest of the band in the stands to dance wildly. The football players would get pumped upon hearing one of these pulsating cadences. The rest of the audience in the bleachers would bob their head and tap their foot to the beat in pleasure. Even the percussionists playing would dance with large grins on their faces as they hit their drums.

It was the highlight of the night when the band would hear a snare drum tap a tempo in preparation for a cadence. They would immediately set their instruments down to where they wouldn't fall or be stepped on and prepare to happily dance like maniacs.

The audience around the band would watch their enthusiasm in amusement, but also in surprise; the band seemed to show more spirit than the cheerleaders did.

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><p><strong>** That last line is not meant to be offensive to cheerleaders. In fact, a girl I know in cheerleading actually told me that. :P ** <strong>


	5. Toes

~ Toes ~

Attention to what your toes were doing was emphasized in the teachings of Mr. Chambers, the head director of Bolley High's marching band. They _had_ to be pointed up as high as they could possibly be without lifting the sole of your foot off the ground.

Mr. Chambers wasn't the type of man to accept laziness, so he didn't hesitate to call out students who seemed to not make an effort of bringing their toes up during the after-school practices.

"Get those toes up, James," he would say to the mellophone player.

Sometimes, he would give push-ups to those that would continuously neglect their footwork no matter how many times he reminded them, but that was a rarity; when Mr. Chambers gave push-ups, he gave them a number that would guarantee that the students' arms would feel like mushy pudding afterwards. Simply keeping their toes up was well worth not having pudding sacks for arms.


	6. Chamber Man

**** Just to warn everyone before you start reading, some of my characters will be a bit perverse (like a lot of band kids I know :P).  
>So if you don't tolerate that kind of humor, you probably won't want to read this chapter. <strong>

**For everyone else enjoy! :)**

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><p>~ <span>Chamber Man<span> ~

Tyler was the one that you could always count on to tease the band director. Even as a freshman, he would call him Chamber Man because "Mr. Chambers sounds too formal". Mr. Chambers didn't seem to mind the nickname Tyler had given him. In fact, he didn't mind most of his shenanigans, just as long as it didn't get in the way of the band's progress on the field. As a jovial junior, he still insisted on calling him Chamber Man.

As everyone in the Band Hall was preparing to head outside for their after-school practice, Tyler was assembling his instrument and furrowed his brows. He looked around for Mr. Chambers to give a report and saw him as he was walking out of his office.

"Hey, Chamber Man!" Tyler called.

Mr. Chambers knew who it was just by the nickname that only Tyler used. When he found him, he took his time as he made his way over. "Yeah?"

Tyler held up his trombone and showed him. "My boner's getting sticky!"

Everyone around them snickered and waited for Mr. Chambers' response. And to their amusement, Mr. Chambers raised his brows at the instrument and laughed under his breath. "I guess you'll just have to lube it up, then."

"Well said, sir," Tyler said as he and everyone else around him laughed.


	7. The Director's Daughter

~ The Director's Daughter ~

Mr. Chambers was a man that liked to keep his private life private. He didn't tell his students about personal matters unless they were called for. But there was one thing about his personal life that he couldn't keep from his students.

Lyla Chambers.

She hated when people asked her about her father. She didn't understand why everyone else in the band would be interested in knowing how he acted outside of school. She especially didn't like it when they asked about what it's like having her dad as the director.

"Does he make you practice every day?"

"Is it awkward at all?"

"Does he care if you call him 'Dad' or does he make you call him Mr. Chambers at school?"

The questions were annoying. During school and band practice hours, Lyla saw her father nothing more as a teacher. It was easier that way for the both of them. At home, they could be father and daughter. But at school, it was strictly business. That's how they liked it, and that's how they did it.


	8. Jealousy

~ Jealousy ~

As a senior and section leader, Shane believed he had to be the very best. Better than all the other trumpets in his section. If he even had the smallest suspicion that any of them were better, he would explode.

If he made a mistake, it wasn't his fault. If he played the wrong note, it wasn't him. It was obviously one of the freshmen that did it.

During class, he sat in first chair. Because Will, a freshman, showed plenty of talent and potential, Mr. Chambers had him sit in second chair. This gave Shane an opportunity to listen for himself.

Listening to the blond haired freshman play infuriated him. Will had clarity, hit high notes with ease, and didn't stagger on tricky rhythms. Shane would clench his teeth in anger, which only made his sound worse. Shane would watch him like a vulture from the corner of his dark-brown eyes, waiting for any kind of mistake.

And then, Will's sound cracked on one of the high notes. That was Shane's time to strike.

Shane then turned to Will to give him a look. "Dude, what the heck was that?" he hissed harshly.

Will lowered his eyes in disgrace and mumbled, "Sorry…"


End file.
